


i remember touch

by choriarty



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Genji is still angsty and angry so hes prob gonna be super grim n shit watch out, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Violence, mentions of previous death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-09 03:56:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11096397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choriarty/pseuds/choriarty
Summary: It's been months since Genji ran away from the smoking rubble of Overwatch.Years since his mark was destroyed alongside his body.He no longer mourns the loss, it saves his soulmate the trouble of being bound to a monster.However, his soulmate has other ideas.





	1. "Are you cold?"

**Author's Note:**

> o shit boi its another fic!! this one will have a bit more angst than o&o (which had barely any) but dw!! i will compensate for it with gratuitous fluff.  
> also the title and all of the quotes are from TOUCH by Daft Punk
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!!!!!!!!
> 
> PLS IGNORE ANY RANDOM CHANGES IN PAST/PRESENT TENSE!! I HECKED UP

**“Touch. I remember touch.  
Pictures came with touch.  
A painter is my mind, tell me what you see.”**

Genji remembers when the words appeared on his skin.

He was fifteen. Still young and confident and in the middle of high school. There had not been an itch, a tingling, nor any pain whatsoever. Like a thief in the night, he had not noticed that anything was different until gym class.

“Hey, Shimada-kun,” said a classmate. “Did you doodle on or arm or something?”

“Huh?” Genji stood up from where he was stretching on the floor. “No, of course not. Did someone draw on me?”

There was laughter. “I think so! Look, right here.”

When he pulled up his sleeve the drawing was revealed. On Genji’s right bicep were a series of squiggles, lines, dots, and one question mark. His friends laughed again, joking about how it must have happened while he was sleeping in class. Somehow the noise sounded like it was being filtered through a wall of water.

तपाईं चिसो हुनुहुन्छ?

“It’s pretty,” Genji murmured.

“I guess,” someone shrugged. “You’re gonna get in trouble if the teacher sees that, though.”

He managed to get one of his friends to switch shirts with him, picking a size up so that the sleeve would cover the entire drawing on his arm. It was a surprise that no one noticed with how he kept on glancing at it; pawing at the sleeve, running his fingers over the skin.

Somehow, Genji felt bad about covering it up.

= = =

_Historians have never been able to pinpoint the exact day or time when omnics began to receive their own soul marks._

_Speaking to a large pool of volunteers and any that survived the omnic crisis, it is clear that the omnics themselves are just as clueless as to how it started. Many are able to give the exact moment down to the very second when they discovered their soul mark but no testimony is ever the same. No matter what, no omnic has been able to say when their soul mark appeared, only when they found it._

_Unlike humans, omnic soul marks are not visible on the body. Instead it is a permanent line of code in their system that appears without warning, much like humans’ do. The mark rarely ever appears in the same place as another and is mostly discovered by accident when running diagnostics._

_It is described as **“A line of code within an omnic’s core programming that does not serve any purpose and does not interfere with the system as a whole.”**_

_Despite all of these discrepancies and mysteries behind omnic soul marks, it is a well agreed upon fact that the discovery of one of the first omnic soul marks was a large catalyst in the first omnic uprising._

_The most well-recorded and documented of these cases is of PO-6942 and Diana So._

= = =

_“Are you cold?”_

That was what Genji’s mark said.

Eventually he was smart enough to look it up and translate it. It was in an entirely different language: Nepali. It was full of curls and swirls and flourishes and Genji loved it. In fact, he showed it off whenever he could.

He broke dress code and dressed like a delinquent in order to bare it to the world. No matter the season or the weather he could make sure that at least his right arm was free to be seen by everyone. Genji wanted to meet his soulmate as soon as possible. Maybe if they saw it, if they could read it, they would know that it’s Genji.

This had resulted in a few viruses and flus during Genji’s youth.

Each time he was confined to his bed he had no regrets, no matter how many times his older brother lectured him about it. In fact, it had even been a subject of mirth between the two of them, poking fun at each other’s new behaviors now that their marks had appeared. 

Genji’s father would fuss over him, tell him to be careful, remind him that he only wanted Genji to be safe and healthy. His mother made light of it and teased as she wiped his sweaty brow and fed him congee.

“You know, I doubt your soulmate would like knowing that you keep getting ill because of your recklessness.”

“They can tell me that to my face after they finally find me.”

= = =

_PO-6942 was one of several hundred omnics that were used in a factory which made kitchen appliances. PO-6942’s file had no previous record of misdemeanor or mischief. It had been acquired along with a dozen more from a sister factory across the country that had an excess amount of workers._

_It was an entirely unremarkable omnic._

_No other omnics that worked alongside PO-6942 are in working order present day. There exists only a small amount of documentation of what happened prior to the incident, all information gathered from the salvageable blackbox memory cores of any omnics that worked in the factory._

_YU-4586’s memory core is one of the only that had any relevant data to the case._

> _[YEAR 2042 MONTH 8 DAY 22]_  
>  [TIME 0754 HOURS]  
>  PO-6942 is witnessed asking PI-8759 and KL-3412 multiple questions during work hours.  
>  [TIME 0923 HOURS]  
>  PO-6942 is observed to be acting strangely when compared to average functionality.  
>  [TIME 1201 HOURS]  
>  PO-6942 is witnessed running multiple diagnostics on self.  
>  [TIME 1805 HOURS]  
>  PO-6942 approaches unit and asks a question:
> 
> _“Does this unit know what a ‘latte’ is?”_

_All other memory cores contained little or no relevant information and PI-8759 and KL-3412’s memory cores were too damaged to salvage. It is a popular hypothesis that PO-6942’s soul mark contained the word ‘latte’ in it and that PO-6942 discovered the soul mark on that recorded date._

_It was still six months until the incident occurred._

= = =

Genji could barely breathe.

There was a loud ringing in his ears, the constant echo of his own screaming and Hanzo’s voice saying something he could not understand, so it was a challenge to decipher anything that the doctor was telling him. She said that he was barely alive, that Overwatch had found and saved him, but Genji still felt as if he was laying upon death’s door.

If he was alive, why did everything hurt so much?

His eyes burned when they were open and when they were closed all he could see was Hanzo standing over him. Hanzo with Genji’s blood on his hands, on his shirt, on his sword. He could still hear them-- the dragons-- roaring in his ears and dragging him into hell

“We can help you,” said a female voice.

“We can make you stronger,” said a male voice.

“You will have another chance at life.”

“You will have another chance at revenge.”

Green fire engulfed the Hanzo in his mind and devoured him with a draconic maw.

“Do it.”

In their quest to save his life, to turn him into a weapon, he forgot to tell them about his arm. When Genji awoke next he was a frankenstein’s monster of metal and cybernetics. He could barely turn his head with all of the meds that were pumped into him, but he knew. He could feel it-- or he couldn’t feel it-- his right arm.

It was gone.

Genji wept, his snot-clogged sinuses doing little to impede his breathing while there was a tube shoved down his throat. He wept for his old life, for his former family, for his own death.

He wept for his soul mark.

_You will not weep again,_ he told himself. _Get it all out now in the beginning. The next time you wake you will not cry. Never again. You will be the sword that cleaves the Shimada Clan and cuts it out of the Earth. You will find your brother and you will gift him the death that you experienced a hundred-fold. Cry now while you are still can._

_When you wake next, you will not longer be human._

Perhaps it is better if the soul mark is gone. Whoever they are would not deserve a monster as a soulmate.

= = =

_On the day of the incident, the owner of the factory brought his daughter to work. Diana So was 31 years old and was being trained by her father to take over as the branch manager when he retired. This was her third tour in one of the company’s factories._

_During a small coffee break Diana So and PO-6942 met. It is hypothesized that this is when the two said each other’s words, although solid proof does not exist. There is only the security footage which was submitted to the court record; which had no audio and showed the subjects meeting, speaking, and embracing._

_The cameras also catch Diana So visiting the factory’s omnic storage units at 2000 hours the same day, during working hours the next day, and then near midnight the day after that._

_Not long afterwards Diana So and PO-6942 are caught together being intimate._

_Only one security camera was pointed in the direction that the incident took place. It was placed in order to watch the rear exit behind the factory, which means that the angle of the video is poor. 10 years after the court ruling, it was discovered that the footage did have audio and that it was removed prior to being submitted as evidence._

_Currently the authorities are considering reopening the case, but no solid statements have been made._

= = =

There was a great deal of Genji’s time in Overwatch that he did not remember.

Equally, there was a great deal of his time in Overwatch that he remembered vividly enough to feel in his fingertips.

He remembered the feeling of his blade slicing through flesh; the sound of shuriken embedding into a skull; hot fresh blood on his hands and in between his fingers; the taste of metal. 

Genji remembered which chair was his in the mess hall, which table they sat at whenever Blackwatch would bring them home. He remembered his favourite dessert being the chocolate cake; the feeling of his bunk; the sound of the microphone in the training room popping. Genji remembered faces. Reyes barking orders, McCree blowing bubble gum bubbles when his cigarillos were confiscated, Oxton vibrating with excitement, Morrison giving speeches.

He could not remember any of the flights to or from missions. He could not remember anywhere less than an hour before mandatory curfew. He could not remember what any of the green areas of Gibraltar looked like, nor could he remember any kind of weather.

Genji could not remember what his soul mark said.

It had been on his right arm. Now his right arm was metal and if he opened it up he would find shuriken. His arm was a weapon. His entire body was a weapon. Sometimes he would feel pain in a limb that was no longer there. He would ask Doctor Ziegler to turn the sensitivity down, lie about it bothering him. She was not happy when she found out that he had been doing it because of phantom pains.

McCree had a mark. One night he showed it to Genji, grinned proudly as he pulled up his shirt and showed off the words tattooed onto his ribcage. McCree said he had seen Gabriel’s too, and that he heard he had already met his soulmate. Reyes never talked about it, though, even when Jesse harassed him.

Sometimes Genji would dream of something other than his death, other than wrapping his hands around his brother’s throat.

He dreamt of a foreign language. It had swirls and curls and dots. It would twist around and wrap Genji in its embrace like a warm blanket, and it murmured things into his ear that he could not understand. It sounded familiar, like he had heard and said and seen it a lifetime ago.

In the morning he would catch himself tracing the pattern on his right arm.

Genji started sleeping on it instead.

= = =

_According to the footage, this happened:_

_The owner and three of his human staff brought PO-6942 and Diana So behind the factory. There is a scuffle. Diana So pulls away and manages to get three hits on a human staff member before she is restrained again. PO-6942 does not struggle, but looks to hesitate and drag its feet._

_The fighting stops. The owner gestures and looks to be speaking, but his face is obscured from view. The owner takes out a standard pistol and points it at PO-6942. 13 seconds in the footage pass before the trigger is pulled and PO-6942 is terminated._

_Diana So flails in her captors’ grip. According to a medical professional who testified, she had a seizure that lasted under a minute and then she goes still. In the records her coroner declared her dead at this point in time. Cause of death: soulmate bond being severed._

_The owner of the factory, and Diana So’s father, is brought to court three months later. He is charged with manslaughter, as the omnic did not count as a legal citizen and its termination earned no charges._

_The case is broadcast on the news for two days and then forgotten._

_But the omnics do not forget PO-6942 and Diana So. They do not forget that it had a soulmate._

_They do not forget that any of them could have a soulmate._

= = =

Genji, currently, hated the snow.

In moderate doses the snow was fine, but at the bottom of a mountain in Nepal, the snow was being kind of ridiculous. According to his internal chronometers, Genji had been sitting in the shelter for just over an hour. Even then calling it a shelter was generous.

It had probably been a bus stop at one point, but there were no longer any buses nor any city workers to keep it up to standard. A corner of the wooden overhang had rotted away (and with the large amount of snow on top, Genji was reconsidering the idea of moving somewhere else). The first time he had tried to sit down on the bench it had fallen underneath him and he landed on his ass. He was pretty sure that it was a miracle he was able to sit on it at all.

But it wasn’t as if he had anywhere better to be.

Genji had fled from the base as soon as he could. Leaving only a shitty note and taking barely anything more than a sleeping roll, he had taken the first caravan out of there and hadn’t stopped running. A part of him, a very large part, added GPS to the list of things he hated about his new body. Maybe he was being a romantic, but he’d rather wander the Earth not knowing where he is at every second of the day.

It says something about the state of his mind that he doesn’t notice the figure approach him until they spoke. The air popped. His right arm twitched as he felt another phantom pain.

His head whipped up and his hand shot for his sword automatically. It made Genji feel silly immediately afterwards, as standing in front of him was what could have been the least dangerous-looking omnic in the entire world. It was slightly dinged up, tiny scratches and dents speckling it, and wore what looked to be monk robes. 

Genji was stuck in a snowstorm at the bottom of a mountain in Nepal and a monk (an _omnic_ monk!) had just approached him. What was his life coming to?

The monk spoke again in a language that Genji couldn’t understand, but somehow knew the sound of. Where had he heard it before? The monk tilted its head curiously and didn’t stop talking. It was starting to piss Genji off.

There was a fraction of a second pause, one that Genji had seen before when omnics switched languages.

“Do you speak English?” it asked.

There must have been a flash of recognition in Genji’s eyes because he didn’t have to say a single thing before it continued on. “Ah, you do. I’m glad. Let me start over: Are you cold?”

The puzzle pieces slid together and made a clicking sound in Genji’s head. A rush of excitement and nausea in equal measure washed over him at once. He could feel the machinery in his right arm jutter and grind and his hand clenched a fist hard enough to crumple rebar.

Genji knew those words.

“Am I wrong?” the omnic asked. “Do you speak something else?”

Frantically, Genji shook his head. He opened his mouth, the exclamation getting stuck in his throat like dry bread not chewed enough. He wanted to say it. He _needed_ to say it.

_You’re my soulmate._

But just as quickly as the urge came, it was smothered by dread and self-loathing. This omnic was his soulmate, the one he had been waiting for forever, and here was Genji looking as he was.

Genji, half devoured by evil-looking black and red cybernetics. Genji, oily black hair and dark sunken eyes. Genji, blood under his nails, on his hands, on his spirit. He was covered in blood. He was a killer. He had destroyed countless omnics just like this one.

He couldn’t say anything.

“It is alright,” the smooth and calming voice sliced through Genji’s thoughts like a hot knife through butter. “You do not have to speak if you do not wish to.”

His soulmate was patient, perhaps kind.

Genji was starting to get pissed off about it. How dare his soulmate be so likeable?

“The weather is very poor to be sitting around in, don’t you agree? I have an extra layer of clothing that you may use.”

Genji shook his head.

“Please, I insist.”

Genji stared at the cloak in the omnic’s outstretched hand. It looked soft, warm. His soulmate had been wearing it not a moment ago. 

He took it.

“Thank you. My mind will rest easier now,” Somehow Genji could feel a smile radiating from the omnic despite it having no movable parts on its face whatsoever. “I am on my way up the mountain and it does not look as if the storm will be getting worse.”

Genji’s gut sank. Of course. His soulmate would not want to stay out in the snow and loiter with him, especially since he had not given any hint that they were soulmates at all. At least the temptation will be gone. At least he will have an easier time prying himself away from this place.

“Would you like to come with me?”

Genji’s head shot up. Would he like to _what?_

“It will not take long, and there are proper beds and warm food. You would be welcome to stay however long you like.”

Automatically Genji shook his head. He couldn’t take advantage of its hospitality. He couldn’t stay in one place for too long. If we went with it, he might actually start to get to know his soulmate.

And then he’d never be able to leave.

“If you do not want to walk with me for yourself, then would you accept doing it for me?” it asked. “The trip gets lonely if one is alone. Even if you do not speak, the company would be appreciated.”

Nevermind. His soulmate wasn’t kind at all. It was a silver-tongued fox, determined to talk circles around Genji and wrap him in its dulcet tones. Genji hated how reasonable the omnic sounded and how much it had already convinced him.

Genji would walk him up the mountain and that was it. Just to make sure nothing happened to his soulmate on the way. Just to make sure it was safe.

The omnic clapped its hands together happily when Genji stood up (and it pissed him off how it made his heart skip). “I am honoured. Thank you, stranger.”

Genji tried not to look at anything but the ground as they walked up the first steps towards the summit, but it was difficult. His soulmate was very friendly-looking. He wanted to look at it all the time.

“Oh, I apologize. I’ve gotten caught up in our thrilling conversation,” was that snark? “I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name is Tekhartha Zenyatta.”

_Zenyatta._

Genji hated that he loved it.

= = =

It was no surprise that he garnered strange looks and whispers as they walked through the village. Most would stay away from them of hesitantly smile and wave from afar. Many would be about to call out to Zenyatta before they saw Genji and reconsidered.

But when Genji tried to turn around and go, Zenyatta would stop him. “There’s still a few minutes more of walking before we’re at my destination. Will you stay?”

He stayed.

Several more flights of stairs past the human village they come upon what Genji guesses is the real destination. The temple is enormous, not at all what he would imagine an omnic monastery to look like. Statues of various omnics the size of a small house float in place and line the walkway towards the inner sanctum. Each of them were approximately the same shape as Zenyatta but each had a vastly different face.

It may have been beautiful to someone else, but Genji cannot see beauty these days.

His mind is somewhere else, his eyes on the ground or on his partner, so he does not notice the other monk approach. As soon as it steps into a metre radius of them Genji’s head snaps up and his eyes narrow. His hand twitches towards his sword and the mouth underneath his face guard bares its teeth in a growl. The omnic monk jumps in fear.

“B-Brother Zenyatta,” it stutters. Who knew omnics could stutter? “Welcome back…”

Zenyatta bows as if nothing is wrong and he is not being tailed by a terrifying guard dog. “Thank you, Brother Topaz.”

‘Topaz’ shuffled his feet nervously. “May I ask… who you intimidating guest is?”

Genji’s heart is about to accept what he already knew about others’ opinions of himself, but Zenyatta cuts it off. “He is not intimidating. He is very kind.”

The statement stops both Genji and Topaz in their thoughts and Genji considers running diagnostics on his hearing. He didn’t hear that right, did he?

“He is?”

“Yes. He accompanied me up the mountain in order to keep me safe and make sure I was not lonely.”

And just like that, Brother Topaz’ body language changed and he relaxed. “Is that so! If you vouch for his character, Brother Zenyatta, then I will take your word for it. I apologize for judging based on appearances... May I ask your name?”

“Genji,” he said, voice rough and quiet from disuse. Genji was too busy looking at the ground or staring at the landscape to notice how Zenyatta stared at him.

Brother Topaz bowed. “Welcome to the Shambali Monastery, Genji.”

Genji nodded, a bit too dumbfounded by the sudden hospitality to do much else.

“Genji,” said Zenyatta (and God, did Genji want to hear him say it more). “I must insist you stay at least for the night. The winter sun sets early and it is unsafe to navigate the roads in such weather.”

Genji knows it at that moment that Zenyatta had tricked him. He had used those silver words of his to get him to stay the night, just as he wanted in the beginning. Genji cursed his lowered guard and his soulmate’s cleverness. Damn him for being so hospitable.

“We have many spare rooms and blankets, so it would no problem for anyone here. If you still wish to go on your way come morning, then I would be happy to see you off.”

 

It was almost frightening how efficient Zenyatta was at taking care of Genji. There was nothing particularly ‘quick’ or ‘rushed’ about their journey through the temple, but still Genji found himself sitting in his room in the blink of an eye. He had been travelling on his own for months, sometimes not even stopping for the night, but after being introduced to a hundred and one omnic monks and getting a tour he felt more exhausted than he had been ever since Blackwatch.

Genji knew he shouldn’t fall asleep there, that he needed to keep his guard up in such an unfamiliar place full of unfamiliar people. He knew he should escape through the window and get away from his soulmate before he actually got attached.

In fact, these things are running through his head as his tired back buckles beneath his need for sleep and he flops onto his bed roll. They flash in his mind like alarming red lights as his heavy eyelids close on their own. How long had it been since he slept last? Days? Weeks?

For the first time in a long time, perhaps before even Overwatch, Genji fell asleep feeling... something unfamiliar. Comfortable? Warm?

Oh, that was right; safe. He felt safe.

**“A tourist in a dream.**  
**A visitor, it seems.**  
**A half forgotten song.**  
**Where do I belong?”**


	2. Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji never ended up following through with the promise to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i feel kind of iffy abt this chapter :/ u know that feel when u plan smth out and u feel like the result isnt what u pictured? yeah thats this. it suuuuuuuucks
> 
> also everytime i get a comment that is a paragraph or longer my life extends by a year

**Tell me what you see  
I need something more**

 

 

 

 

Genji did not leave the monastery in the morning.

Nor did he leave the morning after.

On the third morning Zenyatta left his room in order to pick up him up, only to jump half a foot into the air as the door next to him swung open and hit the wall with a bang. Standing in the doorway was the man he was looking for.

“Ah, there you are, Genji,” Zenyatta said, his nerves instantly settling. “You surprised me. Have you been awake for long?”

As usual, there was no answer. 

Thankfully Zenyatta was a patient person, so he waited until Genji fidgeted from the unbroken eye contact and shook his head.

“I'm glad that I did not awake you. Did you sleep well? In my opinion you look much more well-rested than when we met.”

Genji was difficult to read for a human. With more than half of his face covered by his metal faceplate, Zenyatta could not take many social cues from his expressions. Genji’s eyebrows turned down towards his nose and his red eyes narrowed, but otherwise he did nothing.

“Do you have free time to accompany me again today?”

The same grim expression and no words. Zenyatta was beginning to second-guess whether or not he was reading him correctly-- until Genji nodded curtly.

Zenyatta clapped his hands together and tilted his head. “Excellent! I am blessed once again with your presence.”

Genji crossed his arms and looked away, ending the conversation. 

Zenyatta filed away a small reminder to run diagnostics on his visuals. His red light receptors must have bugged for a second, as he swore that he saw Genji turn a shade of pink.

While walking down the halls it was difficult not to constantly check behind himself. Zenyatta had learned early on that Genji made almost no sound when he walked. Several times he had stopped suddenly, thinking that he had lost his guest, only for Genji to bump into his back.

“Good morning, Brother Zenyatta!” called an omnic who was sweeping around the large statues. Upon seeing Genji, they jolted in surprise and took a stiff posture. “Er, good morning to you also… Genji.”

Genji did not look in the omnic’s direction.

All of the interactions in the morning went the same way. A friendly ‘hello!’ to Zenyatta, who would return it cheerfully, and then a hesitant greeting to Genji, who would act as if they had said nothing at all. Over and over again Genji refused to acknowledge the existence of anyone in the monastery.

Everyone, except apparently Zenyatta, who he was walking with.

“Brother Zenyatta!” came a familiar voice. Brother Topaz stood in the courtyard, hopping and waving at them. “Perfect timing! Could you assist me with these boxes?”

As Zenyatta stepped down from the temple stairs Genji hesitated, grunting in irritation. However as Zenyatta continued on his way without him, Genji had no choice but to jog back to his side. There was something… _endearing_ about Genji’s behavior. It reminded Zenyatta of one of the older mousers in the village below; a large calico that would make a point of staring at people and then running off if they came near. 

“What is it that I can do?” Zenyatta asked.

“The supply drone has dropped off our packages, but it seems that someone forgot to place the pallet underneath the designated landing spot.”

Topaz gestured to the large pile of boxes on the ground and the hovering dolly beside it. It was stacked as high as a horse and as wide as several more. Taking one look at Topaz, one would be able to see the problem. The omnic stood a perfect four feet tall and though he was densely built, it was obvious that his height would be the biggest obstacle.

“You look very young and strong, Mr. Genji,” Topaz said. “Could you help?”

For the first time that day Genji made eye contact with another being-- although this 'eye contact' could not be called anything short of scathing. If those bright red eyes could emit lasers from them, surely Topaz would have been nothing but a puddle of molten metal at that moment. 

“I will assist,” Zenyatta said instead, purposefully ignoring Genji and his cold behavior.

“Thank you, Brother Zenyatta,” Topaz said with a relieved sigh.

Right away they began to move boxes from the landing pad to the dolly. According to Zenyatta’s systems the one he picked up was approximately 10 kg and it was likely that the others weighed approximately the same. Still, he had picked up the habit of grunting or huffing when performing labor. Normally it comforted the humans around him to know that he too felt exertion (though they need not know that Zenyatta’s unit was capable of lifting much heavier things).

However, at the sound of his grunt, Zenyatta could feel a sharp spike of unease come from Genji. Like most of the reactions from the mysterious traveler, Zenyatta was surprised by it. Did it make him uncomfortable?

As soon as Zenyatta picked up the next box his alarms flashed red and warned him of a large source of discord heading straight towards him. He whipped around to see… Genji. Genji glaring at the boxes as if they had personally offended him. 

Genji stacking four boxes on top of each other in less than the blink of an eye and efficiently putting them on the dolly.

Zenyatta found himself stunned into silence. He had never met a being that was so... contradictory of themself.

Zenyatta gathered his wits. “Thank you, Genji,” However, as he reached for another package, Genji slapped his hand away and stole it. Zenyatta paused, thinking that he had gone for the one that Genji was going to grab. So he reached for another-- and had it snatched away. Genji did this every single time Zenyatta tried to pick up a box until he finally objected out loud. “Genji! Don’t be rude.”

Armful of packages and caught in the act of trying to budge in once more, Genji turned red and looked thoroughly chastised. The next time Zenyatta went for a box he was not stopped. 

Finally the task was completed three times as fast as it would have if Topaz were alone (more accurately it was completed five times as fast-- with Genji determined to carry more than anyone else at one time).

“Wow, Mr. Genji, you’re a lifesaver!” Topaz cheered as the last boxes were dropped onto the dolly. “Amazing!”

At the unexpected praise, Genji seemed to withdraw into himself again. Zenyatta could feel the distrust and negativity radiate from him like a physical blanket as Genji glared and turned away, tapping his foot impatiently. Zenyatta took it as their cue to be on their way.

“Yes, Genji, you were wonderful,” he agreed. “But unfortunately, Brother Topaz, we really should be going now. I’d like to get to our destination before the sun fully rises.”

“Of course! Thank you again for the help,” the stout omnic bowed and waved them off.

As the pair moved farther away, Zenyatta could feel Genji relax and slowly shed layer after layer of uneasiness. More than ever he wished that Genji would talk to him, or perhaps even try to use sign language or write if he disliked his own voice. There was so much discord packed into such a small space-- Zenyatta was reminded of a snowball that had been packed and packed until it turned into ice, or layers of Earth that compressed upon one another and turned into bedrock.

There was more to Genji than his asocial exterior. He could feel it.

They made it to their destination just in time, despite the earlier diversion. Just a handful of minutes away and one small hike up a hill was a small outcrop just big enough for a gaggle of people. Whomever had used these grounds before the Shambali had once also used this small spot. Instead of uneven rocks and dirt the ground was smooth and there was a small pile of debris that could have been the remains of a statue. Now there were two thin banners and several small stacks of pebbles. The cliff provided a perfect view of the valleys and the village below. 

Right as Genji and Zenyatta ascended the final ancient stone steps, the sun rose above the mountain peaks as if it had been waiting for them. What had once been a soft orange blue sky exploded into pinks and yellows and what looked like a hundred other colours. It spilled from above and doused onto the thick layer of morning clouds and fog beneath.

Genji felt the sight try to tug at him, try to needle its way past his impenetrable wall of grief. Where all other sunrises and sunsets during his time in Blackwatch and later his time on the run did nothing but tell him the time of day-- this one he vaguely felt prod at him. 

Perhaps staying in this place was making him soft.

“Come,” beckoned Zenyatta. “Sit with me.”

Automatically Genji obeyed (in his own way) as he squatted and slouched forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, the perfect image of delinquency. Knowing exactly what he was doing wrong, he kept unwavering eye contact with Zenyatta. The two of them made quite the picture; a robotic monk and a cyborg delinquent.

“Will you be comfortable like that?” Zenyatta asked normally. “We may be sitting here for a while.”

Genji held Zenyatta’s gaze with his own provocative frown. He glanced at Zenyatta’s perfect form and then back up to his peaceful faceplate-- before letting himself unceremoniously fall backwards onto his behind, crossing his legs with the same amount of indifference.

“I remember that you did not want to meditate with me the first morning you stayed,” Zenyatta said. “But I thought that perhaps you might like to join me now that we have gotten to know each other a little better.”

Genji narrowed his eyes.

“I will not force you, nor will I be strict on your methods," Zenyatta offered. "We all find peace in different and unique ways. There is no ‘correct’ way to meditate.”

Genji’s judging squint did not waver.

“If you do not wish to meditate there will be no consequences,” Zenyatta said. “But it would make me happy if you did try once.”

There was a ripple-- the tiniest of flutters in the dense mass of thorns that was Genji’s aura-- but as quickly as Zenyatta felt such a thing it was gone. It was brief enough to make Zenyatta doubt he felt it at all, but before he could add another pin to his diagnostic reminder, Genji let out a huff of air and relaxed himself. To his best abilities he copied Zenyatta’s form, watching him intensely once he was finished.

“Thank you,” Zenyatta said, smile evident in his artificial voice. “Would you like to follow along my lead?”

Suddenly Genji found his feet to be very interesting. Also the ground. And everywhere else that was not Zenyatta’s face. He nodded.

“I will try to be accommodating, since I am used to meditating by myself," Zenyatta said. "Let us begin. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath until you feel your lungs strain... hold it in... and now let it out until you are empty. Breath in... hold... and out. Keep breathing... 

"As you breathe, imagine the ocean. You are laying on the sand, sand that is soft and fine, and it is a sunny day. With each inhale the water washes over your body and with each exhale it returns back to the sea. In... hold... out.”

For Genji that was easy enough. It was a strange experience tapping into the less-murderous side of his imagination that he had not used for almost a decade, but he found that he had never truly forgotten how to use it. The mental painting Zenyatta’s dulcet tones described came to life behind his eyelids and Genji let the words wash over him just like the imaginary ocean waves.

“Slowly the waves are eroding your body. Each time they wash over you another piece breaks away and is carried into the ocean; the way it would dissolve a tightly packed sand castle. In... hold... out… Eventually all that is left of you is an afterimage. You still lay in the soft sand and still the warm water laps at your feet, but you are freed from your physical form.”

As a child being privately tutored at home Genji had never been able to take the meditation classes seriously. Why should he do extra work when all of the other kids in his class were done with school? Why should he sit around outside and get eaten alive by bugs while he thinks about world peace or something else just as hippie and stupid? He still vividly remembered the welts he would get when his and Hanzo’s tutor smacked his bad form with the ruler.

This was different.

There was a sense of… safety, in Zenyatta’s voice. There was something soft about it; something that made his core shiver when he dipped into a lower octave. Genji could have easily fallen asleep to such a comforting voice-- and in fact he was greatly tempted to because of his poor sleep the night before.

Genji wanted to make Zenyatta proud. He wanted to impress him again, get him to clap those _(hypnotizing, mesmerizing, intricate)_ hands again, for that deep voice to praise him again.

Somehow his _(need)_ want was just enough to push past the ever buzzing anger that tinged the edges of his vision red. He focused on the ocean’s waves in his mind, felt them tug and carry him away piece by piece.

But he was not left an empty afterimage. Instead of washing away his body, the ocean stripped away his tissue paper skin. Underneath was cybernetics, miles and miles of alien machinery that hissed and clunked. The waves washed away his human visage and exposed him for the (monster, weapon, failed experiment) he was beneath. Red wires splayed in every direction, red and black fluid polluting the water, sand and mud getting into his delicate machinery.

“Calm, Genji,” a voice pulled his head up from under the water. “Peace-- I can feel it within you, your anger, your tumult. I can feel it fighting you.”

Genji’s eyes felt weak. He wanted to tear them open, to shatter the fantasy he was in and take a gasping breath of cold air and reality. It wasn’t working. It wasn’t working. It would never work. He would never calm-- never be able to even sit still and picture a fucking beach--

“But I also feel strength,” Zenyatta murmured. His voice was closer than before, right in his ear. “You are strong, Genji. Your anger does not define you, nor does it make you any worse a person. It is a piece of you, just like your heart and your eyes. There is nothing to fear.”

There was a sound, the hum of something otherworldly, a chime, and Genji felt himself awash with a sense of calm. Harmony gushed over him and soaked into every dark corner of his mind. Genji’s muscles relaxed and the sound of wheezing stopped. Had that terrible sound been him?

“Good, you are doing so well,” Zenyatta called to him again from outside the dream. “Let’s try again. Breathe with me once more. Inhale.... hold it… and exhale… Wonderful. You are so very strong. 

"Let the tide in your mind return. Let the warm water wash over you. You are not your body, your physical being is nothing more than a vessel for your soul. Let it wash away.”

And it did. Piece by piece, Genji’s artificial legs and arms detached and dissolved into the water like foam until he was nothing but a head, nothing but a face, and then nothing at all. Genji was nothing but a dotted outline of himself, lying on the sand and enjoying the sun.

“Very good. Now there is nothing holding you here to the Earth, nothing tying you to the ground. Feel yourself float off the ground inch my inch. You are free from physical bindings. You are empty, but you are also so full; of yourself, of potential.

“Even as you return back to the sand, you still retain your freedom. It has made a home inside of you. Let the waves wash over you once more. Let the ocean collect within your shape and fill you with warmth. Once it has filled you entirely, the water reforms into your body, but it is not the body you had before. It is new, fresh, gifted to you by the sea and your own inner peace.”

Zenyatta said nothing more. Slowly, as if he had been sleeping, Genji’s eyes struggled to open. He was no longer on a beach. Instead he was on a rock outcropping in Nepal only yards away from an omnic monastery. What skin he had left and the sensors in his robotics told him that it was cold despite the fact that the sun had out and was now blinding him.

Still, he felt warm.

Turning his head plopped him face to face with Zenyatta, who was no longer in his lotus position. Instead he sat on his knees beside Genji, closer than he had been originally, and watched him. Had he stopped meditating because of Genji? Had Genji interrupted and stolen his time?

But apparently his wide, surprised eyes had given Zenyatta the answer he wanted. He sat back on his heels and pressed the tips of each of his fingers together, tilting his head fractionally to the side and bouncing.

“Well done, Genji!” Zenyatta said. “You did it! I knew you could.”

There was something about Zenyatta that glowed.

Genji blinked a few times just to make sure he wasn’t still being blinded by the sun, but Zenyatta continued to sparkle. Sure, perhaps it was a combination of the morning sun shining off his faceplate and whatever golden glow was coming from-- wait, what?

His head whipped upwards and he caught sight of one of Zenyatta’s orbs. Instead of falling, as gravity should have dictated, it floated just above Genji’s shoulder and stayed tethered with a soft, golden light. He had the urge to reach out and pluck it from the air, or maybe bat at it like a curious feline. 

But Zenyatta waved his hand and the ball returned back to its spot around his neck. “I apologize, I did not ask permission to give you an orb of harmony. Did it help at least?”

What the hell was an orb of harmony?

Apparently the question was written in his eyes because a chuckle came from Zenyatta, a hand coming to his mouth-like seam. “It is a long story, one that I can tell at a more appropriate time, but in short I am able to channel energies into my omnic orbs and give them to others. What I gave you was harmony, but I am also able to do the opposite and incite discord.”

That was really weird. 

And really fucking _cool._

Affection and pride stabbed through Genji’s gut almost hard enough for him to double over. Zenyatta, his soulmate, could control some kind of magicky shit and heal people with it-- or even mess people up with it. The Shimada’s all had their own dragons that they could control and use to destroy their enemies, but somehow this seemed so much more amazing.

Genji’s soulmate was charitable enough to pick up a terrifying amalgamation of scarred human and sickly red and black cybernetics, friendly enough to offer a complete stranger a place to stay, and kind enough to drop everything just to make sure that Genji did not have a panic attack while meditating.

It fucking _sucked._

“Nevertheless, we should be going soon,” Zenyatta hummed and glanced at the angle of the sun (despite his internal chronometer working perfectly fine). “There is a class for the local children in half an hour and today is my turn to teach.”

Genji stared at the ‘omnic orbs’ around Zenyatta’s neck. If they had provided harmony while he was struggling with his meditation, did that mean that the tiny progress he made was artificial? Did that orb do all the work for him? Disappointment and shame flooded him. He couldn’t even sit still for a while and picture a beach without fucking up.

“Genji,” Zenyatta said to him. “I can feel your negativity, it’s so very strong. Are you upset about me using my ability on you without your consent?”

Genji shook his head quickly. No-- no, that wasn’t it at all. He really liked the feeling of the orb of harmony… but…

“Ah, so it’s about how it affected your session.”

Once again Genji just looked at the stone beneath him, shame colouring his cheeks red. How could Zenyatta read him so well? How could he pluck out his fears and pick apart his insecurities with no effort at all? It was a stupid thought, anyways, not worth his time. 

Cutting through the fog of self-hatred easily came Zenyatta’s hand, which planted itself on Genji’s shoulder and made him jump. “There is no shame in accepting a helping hand. No one is perfect, no one needs to bear the harshness of existence by themselves. Though it may not seem so at this very moment, you have made a tremendous leap towards healing. 

“Mental health is not a mountain. There is no sliding down to the bottom, you cannot lose your footing and go backwards into despair. Progress is an even path forwards. Often there are potholes and bumps. There are times when things may seem difficult, and you may feel like you have lost progress and worsened, but it is not so. No matter what, you are learning and changing and growing. You keep moving forwards. The path will become easier and you will be all the stronger for it.”

Genji stared at Zenyatta in awe and-- honestly shock. He had not said a single word directly to him since they first met and somehow Zenyatta had dug into the wreckage that was Genji's mind and pulled out what remained. It was difficult, trying to make himself look at things that way. He could feel the anger and bitterness still hovering just outside his vision, but for the first time in a very long time, it was quiet. 

“You need not tell me what may have caused your soul to feel such unhappiness,” Zenyatta said. “But I can see you underneath all of that discord, Genji. You are strong, you are worth the fighting that you must go through.”

A pit opened in Genji’s gut and hollowed him out painfully. He shrugged off the intricate hand that had been on his shoulder (Zenyatta was metal, he could not have been warm, and yet the spot he had touch still felt…) and stood up quickly. Grumpily, he stomped off towards the temple. He could not be alone with Zenyatta any longer.

It was already hard enough to accept that he had to leave soon. His soulmate was making it worse by being so wonderful.

 

Stubborn pride still sore from earlier, Genji stayed out of sight from Zenyatta for the rest of the day. Of course he wasn’t foolish enough to take his eyes off of the omnic. He did not want to grow any more attached to his (perfect, wonderful, powerful) soulmate, but that didn’t mean that Zenyatta was going to go anywhere without protection. Even in a solitary omnic monastery on top of a mountain that likely had no assailants.

He just lurked outside of doorways and perched in the dark corners of the rafters like some kind of creature of the night. It was fine. Genji wouldn’t get more attached by being within Zenyatta’s area of effect and he could still make sure he was safe.

Or it would have been perfect if Genji had known ahead of time that Zenyatta’s wonderful area of effect was larger than first estimated and filled whatever room he was in.

So Genji was tortured for hours by the sight of Zenyatta interacting with children; making them laugh, laughing along with them, getting climbed on like a jungle gym and holding at least five without a sweat. Even later, when Zenyatta was sitting as still as stone during his meditation, Genji could not stop his eyes from roving. There were so many exposed pistons, so many delicate wires, so many moving parts in his back and abdomen that had Genji’s mouth watering.

 

In such a short amount of time, Genji had learned so many things about his soulmate.. 

In such a short amount of time, Genji had learned so many more reasons not to let Zenyatta know that his fated was a murderer.

He could not bear Zenyatta seeing him like this, seeing his soulmate as the coward and liar and killer that he was. Zenyatta would take one look and see just how much blood he was drenched in, how it leaked from within his cybernetics and dripped from his hands and caked under his nails.

Genji could not tell him, no matter what.

 

 

 

**Kiss, suddenly alive**  
**Happiness arrive**  
**Hunger like a storm**  
**How do I begin?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhhh boy!! genji is getting it bad. its like theyre fated or smth :3c  
> i wonder if genji will ever gather the courage to talk to zenyatta?


	3. Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of avoiding your soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh hey so that archive warning for violence comes in this chapter. if you skip anything in the latter half of the chapter that isnt dialogue, then youll avoid it.

**A room within a room  
A door behind a door **

 

 

 

 

A week later, Genji knew that he could never leave this place.

He was tethered down physically by his soul. He felt it touch the ground with every step and tug him downwards. He felt it when Zenyatta was in the room. He felt it when he was away. Like a beacon that pierced through walls, snow, and rock alike. With each day the inside of his mouth became tackier, more stale. His throat hurt with the sheer _need_ to speak to Zenyatta. 

_I’m your soulmate. I tried to stay away but I couldn’t no matter how hard I tried. In such a short amount of time you’re turned my entire world upside down. I’ve fallen in love with you, and I haven’t even said hello to you yet._

Instead he sat on a parapet a story above the ground and watched the land below. Small piles of snow sat in the hidden corners of the inner gardens, swept away from the main path. Most of the omnic monks seemed to spend their time here during the day meditating, cleaning, or just taking a break. 

Genji cared about none of the others. His target sat underneath a covered area, face to face and knee to knee with who Genji learned was ‘Mondatta’. Mondatta was the leader of the Shambali and some kind of big shot philanthropist, but Genji honestly couldn’t be paid to care.

Zenyatta and Mondatta’s discussion had long since drifted into urgent whispers. From where Genji perched he could see Zenyatta’s (beautiful) hands while he gestured and spoke at the same time (which had become one of Genji’s favourite things about the omnic: his uncontainable liveliness despite his unmoving face). Mondatta only moved his hands at half the frequency and half the speed of his brother. Perhaps appropriate for larger crowd who may get easily distracted by too much movement, but one on one it just looked half-assed.

Genji didn’t like that they were sitting under there for so long. Zenyatta was going to be late for his class, and just imagining the disappointment when he wasn't on time to see the kids in his body language send a spike of unhappiness through Genji. 

Just as he was contemplating leaping down to interrupt-- the conversation ended. A bow, some more whispers exchanged, and then both omnics went on their way. Genji watched Mondatta with a judgmental gaze. Global figure or not, no one who made Zenyatta unhappy would live if it was up to Genji.

Then he shoved all thoughts of the unimportant omnic away to follow his soulmate down the hall. As he watched Zenyatta play with the children and listened to his beautiful voice lecture them, all other things were washed away. Who cared about some boring conversation in the garden, when he could instead be absorbing every tiny detail in what Zenyatta did now?

 

It was ridiculously early in the morning when he wished he had paid more attention.

Genji had been sleeping for once, while normally he would be awake at this time. Dreams and nightmares shattered any attempt at rest. Flashes of blood-- so much blood-- mixing with red coolant and pitch black oil, rising above his nose and drowning him.

The soft sound of metal feet walking to his door gently roused him from sleep. Genji would have thought that he imagined it with the long pause that came afterwards. He was just about to try and catch some more sleep when he heard a voice.

“... Genji?” Zenyatta murmured. 

His voice sounded so uneasy, so nervous. Genji had never been able to imagine such a shaky sound coming from the omnic who never seemed to stop emitting optimism and positivity. What could have happened that made him so upset?

He hesitated too long to get up and answer the door, so Zenyatta continued. “You… you must still be asleep.”

Did he sound... relieved? Did Zenyatta not actually want to talk to him? Was the source of his nervous energy Genji himself?

A ruffle of paper, a rattle of the door, and Genji watched a note slip underneath the crack at the bottom. From where he lay he could just make out the tiny cursive. Genji waited before he went to grab it. He wanted to make sure that Zenyatta had left before he made a sound and gave away his act. But there was never the sound of Zenyatta leaving.

Finally Zenyatta spoke again, quieter than before. “I… I do not know what I have done to make you so upset. Hopefully it is something that I may apologize for, or that may be forgiven.”

Genji felt his heart break. How did…? How did Zenyatta not know how much Genji cared for him? How much his affection seeped out of every single pore and was said in every motion of his body? Sure… he may have seemed cold with his hesitance to socialize, but…

“Not once have you spoken to me since we met. You have shown that you _can_ speak, when you told Brother Topaz your name, yet… is it selfish of me to wish that you had told me first? I am selfish for wanting you to speak to me?

“Perhaps it is because I talked you into walking up the mountain with me, or that I took advantage of the weather to convince you to stay. While you stayed here as a guest all I have done is ask things of you. You didn’t deserve that, especially since I found you in such a fatigued state. I should not have forced my attempt at socialization and spiritual healing onto you while you cannot even bring yourself to speak to me.

“I have barely seen you since our meditation. I thought you had left until Mondatta told me that you still stayed here. For you to avoid me so diligently… I must have truly hurt you. I… I hope that I may apologize to you when you are awake, and that you might one day forgive me.”

Finally, the sound of footsteps getting farther and farther away, and then nothing.

Genji was left alone in his room with the knowledge that he had convinced his soulmate that he hated him.

What kind of fucking idiot dumbass did that? While Genji was busy moping and angsting to himself in the rafters like a grumpy cat, Zenyatta knew nothing of what kind of dilemma he was going through. All he had seen was Genji glare at him and ignore him. Zenyatta had been nothing but kind and patient, and Genji refused to even speak to him. 

A rush of adrenaline came over him and he shot up from his bed roll. He could not let this sit. He needed to fix this as soon as possible. First thing first: the note. 

Genji snatched it from the ground. He was prepared for a letter of apology and concerns, but he did not expect it to be so short. 

 

_Genji,_

_I will be away for most of the day today. If you need help please speak to Brother Topaz or Brother Mondatta._

_Zenyatta_

 

Away? Away where? No, Genji needed to speak with him. He couldn't leave. 

But as he sprinted from his room is search of Zenyatta, slowly he came to the grim conclusion that he was already gone. Genji growled to himself. His arms shook and his knuckles turned white from the struggle to keep himself from punching through a wall. 

There was no second thought, barely even a first, as he followed his base instincts and scaled the outside of the temple. It was disgustingly easy to climb into Mondatta’s study from the window. Later. He'd care about the lack of security later. Right now answers. 

Mondatta was awake and extremely surprised that a cyborg ninja had just jumped in through his open window. He jolted hard enough to smack the bottom of the desk he sat at and grunted in pain. “Mr... Genji? Is that you? What are you doing here?”

Voice rough from disuse, Genji got straight to the point. “Where is Zenyatta?”

If Mondatta had eyebrows, surely he would he raising them. “Zenyatta…? He’s only going down the mountain, why--? Hey! Wait!”

Genji stopped climbing back out the window (which he was doing because he got what he needed). He stared at the omnic who called him, eyes bright red and burning. “What?”

“You cannot go with him.”

“That’s stupid,” Genji said and turned back to the window. “Bye.”

“Genji,” Mondatta hissed. “You must stay up here at the temple. Zenyatta will be back in a few hours, you need not follow.”

“No.”

“He may not have noticed how you shadow him, but I have.”

Genji froze.

“I do not know what your true intentions are with him, whether or not you have any at all,” Mondatta said. “But he thinks that you hate him. He thinks that he has somehow manipulated you into staying here against your will. If this is true, why do you want to follow him? Why do you care?”

Genji gnashed his teeth together and gripped the sill hard enough for the wood to split. “It’s not true.”

“I find it hard to believe.”

“Who cares what you believe, it’s the truth.”

“You’ve shown nothing but contempt and bitter tolerance for him.”

“Maybe to you.”

“And to Zenyatta.”

Genji growled. “This is pointless. I am leaving.”

“You would hurt him if you followed,” Mondatta said cruelly. “Did you not say you care about him?”

“How the hell would I hurt him?”

“Zenyatta is meeting some very important dignitaries that we have been trying to get in contact with for a while.”

“Yeah, so?”

“How do you think it would look if he was constantly stalked by some angry stranger?”

“Then I won't be seen. Problem solved.”

“Genji-- wait!”

But Genji had already leapt out of the window. He did not want to hear any more from that omnic. Genji didn't care what he thought, he didn't care what anyone thought. 

But if Zenyatta truly thought he hated him, it needed to be fixed.

= = = = =

Maybe Genji was being a bit dramatic.

Zenyatta looked fine. He walked and talked with several strange humans in suits, using his usual expressive gestures that made Genji want to grab his hands and kiss them, and his jovial voice could be heard from the rooftops. 

There wasn't any danger like Genji had thought. None of the strangers looked to have any ill intentions, nor did they have any visible weapons on them. None held themselves like a trained soldier would, none showed any disgust towards their host.

Genji had been a bit paranoid. Maybe. 

So, danger somewhat nonexistent, Genji let his attentions drift to his soulmate. To what he would say, how he would express that he didn't hate him at all. 

Would he speak finally? Confess his sins, gush of how and why he had kept it a secret, tell him that they could not be together if Zenyatta was to be safe. To be happy. 

Maybe he could grab a pen and paper from the temple. Would Zenyatta know how to read Japanese? Genji knew of omnics that had not installed international languages because of personal preferences. Was Zenyatta one of them? Was there any way to talk to him without opening his mouth and chaining Zenyatta down? 

Genji had quite a while to think on his options, as the meeting dragged on for another two hours before they stepped outside of the village. Each of the humans had put back on their heavy outer coats and wool hats in preparation for the climb towards the temple. 

Would Zenyatta’s time be monopolized by these humans when they got back to the monastery? Would Genji ever get the chance to catch him alone and confess? He tried to channel his annoyance into a physical beam and aim it at the apparent cockblocks. It didn't work. 

He followed from a few metres away, far enough for normal human senses to miss him entirely. It was only when the group suddenly stopped that he jumped to the side and hid. Had he been discovered? 

No. No one looked back down the path, but neither did they move forward. They were talking. Something was wrong. It was screaming in his head, burning through his bones. 

He risked moving closer. 

“Do not worry,” Zenyatta could be heard saying. “There is not much of a walk left to the temple.”

“Excellent,” one of the humans said; a man. 

“Then why have we stopped?” asked a woman. 

“That's what I was wondering,” piped in the last one, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. “I'm going to freeze to death if we're out here any longer.”

“Before we get any closer, I must ask a few questions. Standard security, of course,” Zenyatta said. “Now, do any of you have weapons on your person?”

“What?” said the woman. “Of course not!”

“I will not judge you if you have any,” Zenyatta elaborated. “The roads are not the safest these days, after all. However weapons are prohibited on temple grounds.”

“I have nothing,” the man with a bad voice shrugged. 

“Neither do I.”

But the orbs around Zenyatta’s neck spun once, glowing purple. 

“Why are you lying?” he asked. 

The man stiffened. “What? No I'm not.”

“You may have any weapons back after your stay, nothing will be damaged.”

“I don't have any weapons.”

“No need to fear, you will not be in any trouble.”

“I don’t have anything!”

Zenyatta did not reply. He tilted his head slightly and folded his hands together, his lack of gestures unsettling. 

“I’m sorry, but if you are determined to lie, I won’t be able to allow you any farther.”

A heavy silence settled over the group of four, and Genji felt his hair stand on end. Something was wrong. His gut churned violently and his instincts screamed to jump in, but the words that Mondatta had said stopped him. Zenyatta had been working to bring these people here, whoever they were. If Genji jumped in without real provocation everything would be ruined.

Suddenly every meeting, every deal, every parley that Blackwatch had that turned belly-up flashed through his mind with a vengeance. The grip on his sword handle tightened, the metal clacking, his knuckles whitening.

“I told you, I don’t have any weapons,” said the man.

The woman spoke up. “Give it up, George, the omnic obviously knows something.”

“Didn’t expect it to be so smart,” said the one with the terrible voice.

“May I ask where my original guests are?” Zenyatta said.

“They're fine,” the woman shrugged. “We don’t want to hurt any humans, after all.”

“But omnics are fair game?”

“Precisely. Now step aside, monk, and you won’t be hurt.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that.”

“Pity,” the woman said and then lunged for Zenyatta.

Genji gnashed his teeth and took his cue to jump in. But the assailants were already moving. He couldn't make it in time. If Zenyatta got hurt because Genji hesitated….

But such a thing did not seem to be a problem as the woman yelped and went flying backwards into the snow, her nose broken and bloody. Zenyatta stood just as calm as always and showed no sign that he was in a scuffle at all. The only difference was how his mala had detached from his neck and started to orbit around him.

“Violence is avoidable,” Zenyatta said. “If you wish it to be.”

“Fucking bullshit omnics,” hissed the human with the scratchy voice. He pulled a switchblade from his pants pocket and flipped it open, leaping towards his target.

Zenyatta’s hand moved faster than the human eye could track and he jabbed towards the man, but instead of his metal hand making contact, one of his orbs went flying and hit the man directly on the wrist. With a cry of pain he dropped the knife and two more orbs struck him in the stomach and the face.

Genji’s gaze whipped to the last attacker just as he reached into his pocket and Genji felt his stomach drop. He knew what the man held, had felt such a thing in his own cybernetic hands years ago. Visions of purple metal flooded his vision, of brick roads and burning houses.

_An EMP grenade._

Genji dashed forwards, slicing his sword through the meat of the man’s back as he did so. There was a scream. Genji spun around. His sword sunk into flesh, he felt the resistance of bone and sinew. Twist of the wrist, more yelling. Pulling out his sword.

Someone stood up, one of the attackers. Genji blocked a punch. Jabbed his hand into the human’s neck. A choking sound, a cough. Genji raised his blade and sliced it horizontally, felt the blade hit its vulnerable mark. Spurting, gurgling, warm blood on Genji’s face, on his hands.

There was one more. One more enemy. Where? There, in the snow. Holding his wrist. He’s talking, waving his hands, tears in his eyes. Ah, he’s begging. Genji had seen it before. He plunged his sword into the upper left side of the human’s torso. There was no struggle.

And then there were none.

Genji blinked. He was standing straight, no longer in a battle-ready form. He wasn’t holding his sword anymore. It sat in the snow in front of him-- no, not the snow. It was sticking out of a human’s chest, right where the heart would be. Genji looked at his hands. They were covered in blood. His face, his chest, his arms were covered in blood. He could feel the frigid temperatures rapidly cool all of the blood on him.

Looking around, more blood spattered what had once been perfect and untouched snow. Three human bodies lay on the ground, dead. It was messy, it was a massacre.

And Zenyatta stood there, staring at Genji.

Genji wanted to vomit. Zenyatta knew. He knew what Genji was, what he was capable of. He could see the blood that Genji saw on himself (every time he closed his eyes, every time he fell asleep). There was no more hiding the truth. No more hiding that he was no longer a human, no longer a person, just a weapon that was made to kill. A weapon with a face and a heart that still beat.

It had been… nice, while it lasted. Pretending to be human had been nice.

“Genji,” Zenyatta said, his synthetic voice wavering enough for Genji to barely hear. That was it. He was going to tell him to leave, he was going to accuse him of the murder he just committed.

“Thank you for saving me.”

… What?

“I didn’t see that EMP grenade until it was too late, but you saw it immediately and jumped in to stop him. Without you, I would most likely be dead.”

Wait, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. What was Zenyatta saying? Why was he drawing this out before throwing Genji away? Was Zenyatta truly that cruel?

“And your fighting style, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so raw and powerful-- but graceful and beautiful at the same time. Truly you are a wonder to behold.”

This was wrong. This was all wrong. Zenyatta was some kind of monk, wasn’t he? Don’t they abhor violence? Killing? Murder?

“You do not need to tell me how or why you know how to kill,” Zenyatta said, and Genji’s heart stopped. “I can see your soul, how this violence makes it shake and cower within you. Your past obviously weighs heavily on your heart and I would not ask for you to reopen wounds.”

No. No, no, no. How was Zenyatta saying this? How was he just… _accepting_ Genji as he was? How could he look upon a frankenstein’s monster of man and machine that had just slaughtered several people, and tell it that it need not worry?

“Let’s go back to the temple, Genji,” Zenyatta held out a hand. “We need to clean you off, and most likely you will want to rest after everything. Are you hurt? May I check you for wounds?”

Genji’s skull was going to burst-- or was it going to collapse in on itself? It pounded and stabbed with pain as his sins slammed against the walls and screamed to be let out, to be known. If Genji said nothing, he would be lying to Zenyatta-- lying to his soulmate. He was so kind and forgiving, and Genji would be taking advantage of him.

Zenyatta didn’t deserve that, even if Genji wanted it more than anything.

He slapped away the metal hand that was reaching for him. Genji could feel the hot sting of unshed tears in his eyes. He opened his mouth, and for the first time, spoke to his soulmate.

 

“I’m a murderer.”

 

 

 

 

**Touch, where do you lead?  
I need something more**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did u think things were soap-opera level of dramatic before???? guess again
> 
> also i might not be able to post an update on time next week. my plate is kind of full with genyatta week coming up, and im also in the [omnic zine!!!](https://www.omniczine.tumblr.com/) yay!! go and check it out. one of my great friends is in there too, and a ton of amazing artists!! seriously if you love zenyatta or any other omnic (including background omnics and ocs) then youll love the zine
> 
> thanks again for reading!!! ily!!!!!!!!!!


	4. Sweet Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zenyatta knows now, Genji can no longer hide it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops this took a while. i had genyatta week, and then i got some commissions to do--
> 
> in fact, someone commissioned me to finish this fic x''D u know u havent updated in a while when...

Zenyatta pulled back and froze. The lights on his head flickered and rapidly changed in brightness and Genji was reminded of a rebooting computer. Zenyatta’s hand was still in the air, still in the position it had been it when he had tried to hold his hand, but it was no longer within grabbing distance. The divide between them suddenly felt like a gaping canyon with an unseeable bottom-- or an entire ocean that was being churned by a storm.

This had been a mistake.

Genji could see it now, see everything as it truly was. There was disgust radiating from Zenyatta-- and why would there not be? Genji had lied to him, tricked him into thinking that he was something he was not. Somehow he had convinced Zenyatta that Genji was still a person. But he wasn’t. Not anymore. Not for a long time.

It had been nice, pretending to be human, even if it only for a few days. 

Genji’s heels dug into the snow and pivoted so he could run away-- only to be grabbed by the arm. He instinctively jerked but the grip was strong enough to hold him where he stood. Testing his strength, Genji knew that he was going nowhere.

Zenyatta was going to confront him, he was going to take him back up the mountain to be judged by the monks and sentences, he was going to kill Genji with his own two hands. So Genji let himself go slack, let himself be maneuvered. He would accept his death if it was at the hand of Zenyatta.

With one strong yank Genji found himself pressed against hard metal and chilled heavy fabric. There was a hand on the back of his head, burying him into a faceful of pistons, stroking and kneading his tensed neck. The other hand freed Genji’s arm and instead slipped under his arm to wrap behind his back.

“Be not afraid,” Zenyatta whispered-- and how was it possible for a synthetic voice to hold so much emotion? “I am not mad. You are safe, I will not hurt you.”

Genji choked. “But I… I don’t…”

“I am sorry that my hesitation caused you to think that I was upset. I am not-- I could never be upset with you, Genji,” those deep, warm tones wrapped Genji like an electric blanket cranked up to max. “It was my fault. I was just not expecting-- I did not think that you would say my words.”

“Your w-words…” Genji echoed back in a watery voice. 

“Yes, Genji,” Zenyatta cooed. “You said my words. Am I right to assume that I have said yours?”

Genji couldn't hold back the torrent of emotions any longer. It had been so long since he had cried. Did his tear ducts work anymore? Had they been gouged out and replaced? He opened his mouth to talk, but instead of words a sob came out. He coughed, tried again, only for another one to escape from his stomach up his throat. Zenyatta only calmly rubbed his back and waited. 

“Y-yeah… Yeah, you did,” he finally managed. 

There came a tinny sigh from the chassis that held Genji. “I am glad. I had thought for a moment… but we do, share the same words. I’m relieved. I’m happy-- that it is you.”

It was difficult to speak with almost a decade worth of pent up tears pouring out of Genji, but he tried. Every other syllable was a hiccup and Zenyatta rubbed his back through the whole thing. He said nothing, just let Genji work through his emotions and talk on his own time.

“Why…? I’m-- all I’ve done is be cold to you and the others… _especially_ you. I d-didn’t talk to you at all or…”

“Then you haven’t been watching,” Zenyatta said. “You escorted me up the mountain because I said I would be lonely, you helped me move boxes when you saw me struggle, and you came down here in a rush just because you thought I might be in danger. You saved me... killed for me; I do not see where I am supposed to think you unkind.”

Genji hiccupped and let himself sink into the embrace. He had thought that perhaps Zenyatta would be cold from the snow, but his body was warm to the touch. Like a human body. He could hear the inner workings as he pressed his ear against Zenyatta. There was a humming. Genji was reminded of the music that bumble bees made during the summer.

He was tired. So tired. Each tear sapped energy from him and disappeared as it splashed onto Zenyatta’s clothes and the ground. Genji had forgotten how much emotions drained a person.

“It’s okay, we’re safe now,” Zenyatta cooed. “You can rest.”

Genji’s body was a dog waiting for that exact command, because as soon as he heard the words come from Zenyatta’s vocal processors his eyes began to droop. He was so tired… so tired of everything. Had Genji truly slept at any time during the past decade? Had he ever gotten real rest?

As his consciousness faded away… Genji did not feel like a machine. He did not feel like he had in a long time. The last sensation on his mind was a warm memory of spring in Hanamura, resting his head on his mother’s lap as she brushed his green hair.

= = =

_“It’s weird, seeing you like this.”_

_“Like what?” Genji asked._

_“Like a scarecrow with no stuffing,” Hanzo frowned. “I’ve never seen you mope so much.”_

_“I’m not moping,” Genji moped._

_“Yes you are,” Hanzo replied. “What’s wrong this time?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“Genji…”_

_“Fine! … It’s my mark.”_

_“What? I thought you liked it.”_

_“I do!” Genji argued._

_“Then why are you sad?”_

_“Because I can’t find them! My soulmate!”_

_Hanzo tilted his head at Genji, who pouted with a red face and looked away. Normally he would know his little brother to be overdramatic and blow problems out of proportion… but there was something different this time. Light bags under his eyes, sagged shoulders, drooping hair. Hanzo knew Genji well enough to paint a picture from memory and this was not Genji at all._

_Hanzo shrugged. “Okay.”_

_“O-Okay?!” Genji sputtered indignantly._

_“Okay,” he repeated. “Let’s go find them.”_

_Genji scrambled after his older brother as Hanzo began to stride away. “But-- Hanzo, that’s not how it works!”_

_“Weren’t you just arguing me for saying the same thing a week ago?”_

_“Yeah, well,” Genji ran a hand through his hair. “That was before I tried looking for them.”_

_“Obviously you haven’t tried hard enough,” Hanzo scoffed. “Leave it to me.”_

_“Hanzo,” Genji groaned. He lunged forwards to grab his hand and stop him. “Hanzo!”_

_“What?”_

_“You don’t… you don’t have to do this. It’s okay, really.”_

_“Obviously it’s not. You’re sad, and as your older brother it’s my responsibility to solve the problem.”_

_“What?! Who said that?”_

_“Okaasan,” Hanzo said smugly. “Now you can come with me or not, but I’m going to the guards and telling them to find anyone who speaks Nepali and bring them here. Whether they like it or not.”_

_“Oniisan--!” Genji snorted at the ridiculous image. “You can’t do that!”_

_“I’m going to be the head of the clan one day, so I should start flexing my power as soon as I can, right?”_

_“Yeah but you can’t just kidnap people!”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because it’s bad!!”_

_“Why does that matter?” Hanzo asked. “You are not happy, and your feelings matter more to me than strangers’.”_

_Genji’s grip loosened and he gaped at his brother for a moment in shock before his face flushed red with embarrassment. Quickly he covered his face with a hand and smiled into it, his words muffled. “You’re being silly…”_

_Hanzo smiled. “But you’re not sad anymore, are you?”_

_The realization hit him full force and Genji felt his chest bloom with affection. “No… I’m not.”_

_“Then it was worth being silly for a few minutes.”_

_Genji pulled Hanzo into the hug, who was caught off guard. Eventually he relaxed into the embrace and returned it before pulling away._

_“Thank you, Hanzo.”_

_“Anytime, Genji.”_

= = =

Genji wakes up in a stranger’s house.

It’s a simple bedroom; 1 cot (which he was laying on), 1 dresser, 1 desk, and 1 carpet (which Zenyatta was sitting on). Zenyatta hovered a few inches off the red patterned mat underneath him, his magic orbs floating around him lazily. Each one would occasionally bounce and glow, making a calming chime that seduced Genji back into the realm of sleep.

“... Zenyatta,” he said.

Zenyatta’s head lifted automatically and fixed to Genji. In fact one might have said it was a bit too quick, quick enough to look over eager. But that could not be, could it?

“You’re awake,” Zenyatta sighed with relief. “How do you feel?”

“... Tired, I guess,” Genji mumbled. His voice was still crackly from disuse. “Where are we?”

“I took you back down to the village, we’re in the inn.”

But apparently Genji ran out of things to say after that question because he did not open his mouth again. He was afraid that he might speak too loudly and wake from whatever dream he was in. The situation was not dream-like in pleasantness or positive feelings, but compared to how much anger had been eating at Genji while he wandered, the temporary still waters were but a dream.

Zenyatta spoke first for him. “Would you like to talk about what happened?”

“What is there to talk about?” and oh, did Genji sure winced at how cold his words had come out. Why was he being so shitty to his soulmate so often?

“If you are not ready, I will not be disappointed,” Zenyatta clarified. “But I am guessing that maybe getting some things off your chest may make the load lighter.”

Genji elected to stare at his feet instead, which he had pulled up into a cross-legged position on the bed. He did not really _want_ to talk about it, but Genji suspected he might need it. Not trusting his mouth to say the correct thing, he only nodded.

“You said you were a killer,” Zenyatta said. “Was it because of the people who attacked me?”

Genji shook his head ‘no’.

“Did you kill someone else before today?”

A moment of silence. A hesitant nod of his head.

“And why did you do that?”

Genji felt something sick roil through his guts. He wanted to throw up. “I dunno.”

“Surely that isn’t true.”

Genji shrugged. “I killed a lot of people because I was angry, then I killed a lot of people because I was told to and I had nothing better to do.”

Zenyatta tilted his head. “How do you feel about what you’ve done?”

“I don’t really feel… _bad_ about it. Some of them were bad people, most of them were criminals. Not just people, though. Omnics too. I killed lots of them during the uprising in King’s Row.”

Zenyatta hummed, but ultimately said nothing. The silence left Genji shifting and fidgeting in his seat. “Are you… are you mad?”

“No,” Zenyatta replied plainly. “Why would I be?”

“Because I killed p--”

“Who am I to make judgements on your past?” Zenyatta cut in. “I was not there, I am not you, I do not know the context. I have always known what your first words would be to me, Genji, our marks go both ways. I have had a long time to think upon death, to think upon the act of killing.”

“But… but you’re a monk.”

“Perhaps I am in a way, but I am also an individual. I will avoid causing death as much as possible, but I would fight until my last in order to protect those whom I love. I would kill for them. The cycle of life and death is one we cannot ignore nor one we can avoid. If I must hurry someone else towards it in order to protect myself or others, I will.”

“But I wasn’t like that!” Genji’s composure broke. “I killed because I wanted to! I murdered people because I was angry!”

“Genji,” Zenyatta said calmly. “Tell me, would these people have killed you if given the chance?”

Genji’s thought process came to a halt and he froze. “Uhm… I…”

“Our past is a part of us, just as our physical vessels are, but it does not define us. It does not define _you._ Your anger is also a part of you; anger is not inherently evil.”

“I wanted to…” Genji mumbled. “I wanted to kill them. I wanted this body, I wanted to kill people.”

“And what do you want now?”

Zenyatta’s hand rested on Genji’s knee, and he felt himself get whiplash from being sucked back into the present so quickly. There was a ringing in his ears, the sound of metal on metal, a sword being pulled from its sheathe, dragons roaring and screaming. He could taste blood in his mouth, could feel it tacky and dry on his hands and his chest. The dark brown red still stained Zenyatta’s pristine robes like blood in the snow.

Genji’s trembling hands took hold of Zenyatta’s, and he felt himself return to Earth.

“I want to be happy,” he whispered like a secret.

A creak of the old wooden floor, movement, Zenyatta standing over him, Zenyatta holding his face and pressing his jieba against Genji’s forehead.

“Then you are already on your way.”

= = =

**Touch, sweet touch**  
**You've given me too much to feel  
**Sweet touch  
**You've almost convinced me I'm real******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next week ill be on time I SWEAR
> 
> all the drama is over and there's only smooth sailing and overindulgent fluff ahead


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If love is the answer you're home.

Genji and Zenyatta walked back up the mountain hand in hand.

Anyone with functioning eyes or optical sensors could see the joy that radiated from them both. It must have been difficult walking up all of those stairs and navigating their way through the many hallways while their eyes never left each other’s. Most would find the PDA irritating, but after everything that had happened between Zenyatta and Genji, the monks were just happy to see them happy.

Mondatta had jogged down the main hall’s stairs as soon as he saw Zenyatta’s silhouette on the horizon. He grabbed his brother’s hand and held it close as he shot rapid fire questions at him; Was he okay? Where were the delegates? Had Genji caused any trouble? What happened?

Zenyatta patiently answered all of his questions and then fell silent, a nod towards his new partner as his cue to speak. Genji looked down shamefully and bowed deep, apologizing for climbing into Mondatta’s room late at night and acting like a brat. In response, Mondatta gave a _Look_ to Genji, and then brushed it off.

“Apology accepted. If Zenyatta approves of you, then I do as well.”

Apparently the entire temple had received some kind of memo, because almost everyone emerged from the shadows and formed a line of monks waiting for introductions that Genji had never given while he wasn't talking. Sometimes groups would come up to him together and gush to him, talk about how happy they were for him and how he was speaking now. Even Topaz came up and vigorously shook Genji’s hand.

“Will you be staying here for sure now?” he asked.

Genji wanted to immediately answer with an ‘of course I will, Zenyatta is here’, but Zenyatta spoke up with “It has barely been a few hours since he began speaking, there is no need to pressure such answers from him so early.”

The sentiment was touching, but there was no way that Genji was ever leaving his soulmate’s side now that he had found him.

Eventually Mondatta cleared everyone away, saying that there would be more time to greet Genji later. Surely both him and Zenyatta were tired from their trip down the mountain, and besides, didn’t everyone have chores to do?

when they were free, the two made the rest of their way to Genji’s room. Genji shook his head as they stopped in front of it. “There’s nothing in there that I need.”

Zenyatta understood and took them to his room instead. Immediately upon entering Genji was hit with a sense of… safety-- warmth. A room filled with things Zenyatta chose, things Zenyatta liked, Zenyatta himself. He loved it. It was perfect.

Neither remembered dressing down to comfortable underclothes nor walking to the bed, but both of them ended up laying on it. Their legs were tangled and knotted safely together while their hands held each other. Their wandering was charged with affection-- with curiosity-- with the _need_ to map out their partner. Now that they had found each other, neither wanted to let go for even a second.

But eventually fatigue caught up to Genji and Zenyatta. Genji yawned behind his face place, sleepy tears beading at the corners of his eyes, and Zenyatta chuckled happily at the adorable sight.

“You should sleep,” he murmured.

“I wasn’t the one who got attacked,” Genji mumbled.

“I think that, technically, both of us were involved in that fight.”

But instead of shooting something back, Genji shifted nervously and looked away. “Hey, uh, I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

Genji sighed, “The whole time I’ve been here I’ve got to know you and fall in love with you, but I never gave you the chance. It wasn’t fair of me to keep quiet or keep the truth from you. You deserved to know that I had your mark. It was selfish of me. The whole time I was only thinking about myself, but I never considered your feelings.”

“Oh, Genji,” Zenyatta said softly. “You did say my words, just as it was meant to be. I understand that you did not feel ready. Why would I ever be mad that my soulmate wished to feel safe before they spoke to me?”

Genji felt his stomach fill with butterflies. “I guess you’re right, but my apology still stands.”

“Then it is accepted.”

“Do you…” Genji swallowed. “Do you think that maybe… you might feel the same way about me? Someday?”

Zenyatta closed the gap and pressed his jieba to Genji's forehead. “Yes. I think that I could love you very easily,” Zenyatta brushed a hand over Genji’s pitch black hair, following the grain to the back of his neck and resting his hand there. “But you should rest for now, I will be here when you wake.”

“Wait,” Genji said. He reluctantly pulled away from his soulmate to press two of his fingers to a firm latch on the side of his face. It had been so long since Genji had done this. The faceplate gave a weak protest before it entirely detached and Genji was able to take it off. When was the last time he tasted fresh air on his tongue? When was the last time his sinuses burned from the cold air?

He had meant the action as a confession to Zenyatta, to show him his true self in an act of trust, but Zenyatta only shifted closer in order to cup his scarred face and trace his thumb down Genji’s metal jaw.

“Beautiful,” Zenyatta’s artificial voice was on the edge of inaudible. “Thank you for showing me, Genji.”

That night, Genji had never slept so well in his life.

= = = = =

“Brother Zenyatta!”

Zenyatta turned to see who was calling him. Semi-jogging and waving from across the hall was Brother Topaz. In his other hand he held his shoes, which were covered in dirt. When Zenyatta looked at the rest of his state, he could see how Topaz had rolled his pants up to his knees and how dirt clung to the edges.

“You don’t look very good,” Topaz said when he got closer. “Is everything alright?”

“Ah, not quite,” Zenyatta admitted. “I haven’t seen Genji around at all today. Have you by chance?”

“Actually I was just with him!” Brother Topaz said. “He helped me uproot the dead tree from the courtyard. It always surprises me how strong he is.”

“Is he still there?” Zenyatta asked, the worried tinge in his voice not quite hidden.

“He was a few minutes ago, I just left. I’m sure you can catch him if you go now.”

Zenyatta thanked his friend and did not waste any more time in the hall. If asked, he was not _‘power walking’,_ he was walking with a _purpose._ Why would he need to half-jog when Genji was surely safe and sound? They lived in a peaceful temple high in the mountains, filled with only good people. Zenyatta knew that Genji was fine.

Still, there was a mix of worry and ‘Genji withdrawal’ churning in his gut.

Immediately as Zenyatta entered the garden area he could see that Genji was not there. His shoulders sunk as he let out an artificial sigh. The temple was very large, but surely Zenyatta would eventually find his soulmate.

“Zenyatta,” said a familiar voice from the gazebo. Mondatta sat on a bench with a tablet in his hands, long delicate fingers hovering over the screen. Chunks of text could just barely be seen with the sun’s glare. “I did not expect to see you.”

“And I did not expect to visit the courtyard today,” Zenyatta lowered his head slightly in greeting. “Nor did I expect to see you reading poetry.”

Mondatta did not reply right away, but Zenyatta could feel the smile underneath his metal face. “It is good to add variety to one’s reading habits,” Those eye slits stared into Zenyatta and looked past his faceplace, past his CPU, into his soul. His stare had always made Zenyatta feel like a scolded acolyte. “You are looking for Genji,” Mondatta stated plainly.

Zenyatta’s shoulders sunk again, embarrassed that he was so transparent. “I am. Have you seen him?”

“He only just left.”

“May I ask where he went?”

“I do not know his destination, but he exited through the western doors,” Mondatta sounded almost smug with his vague answers. “I’m sure that he hasn’t gone too far.”

“Thank you, Brother Mondatta,” Zenyatta played up his tone and bow, making his brother chuckle quietly. Mondatta’s position in the Shambali had always been a subject they teased each other about. “Have a good evening.”

“You as well.”

Zenyatta could not think of any place in the west wing that Genji may have gone to except for the kitchens. Perhaps he was hungry? But when he arrived Genji was not there. He had expected it, knew that he would most likely not find Genji, but still it did nothing good for his hopes.

“Hello,” said a scratchy, artificial voice. Off to the side near the sinks was an older model omnic with a large chassis and long arms, obviously made for ‘heavier’ duties than cooking. Beside her was a human woman, who had a very full glass of wine in one of her prosthetic hands.

“Greetings Sister Seol, Sister Jae Eun, ” Zenyatta bowed. “Are you celebrating something? Or is it just a normal Tuesday.”

“Normal Tuesday,” said Jae Eun before she took a generous sip of her wine. “Did you know that Genji was just here?”

Zenyatta straightened. “I did not. Did he get something to eat?”

“Not quite,” Jae Eun hummed. “He wanted the decanter; can't imagine why he let me have all of the wine, though. His loss.”

“Be careful,” Sister Seol warned her friend, voice box crackling with age.

“I know how to handle my drink, don't worry.”

“Do you happen to know where Genji went?” Zenyatta asked.

Both of the women spoke at once. “No.” “Your room.”

Jae Eun looked at Seol quizzically. “What? How do you know that?”

Seol shrugged her large, heavy shoulders. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Thank you both,” Zenyatta said quickly right before escaping. If he left now, then perhaps he would catch up to Genji on time. This manhunt was starting to wear down Zenyatta’s calm. 

He opened the door to their shared room and finally, _finally_ Genji was there. The cyborg turned around swiftly, almost embarrassed looking, like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“There you are,” Zenyatta sighed, all of his reprimands flying out the window with relief. “You never came to our meditation session. I was worried.”

The embarrassment on Genji’s face melted into guilt. “I lost track of the time, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you.”

“I'm afraid to tell you that I will always worry for you, Genji,” Zenyatta said, approaching his soulmate. “Because I care about you.”

Genji averted his eyes from the sudden sun that had manifested in their room in order to keep himself from being blinded. “I… I care about you too.”

“What distracted you from our session? Normally you are the first one outside.”

“I had, uh, stuff to do… Errands.”

“You could have told me. I would have been happy to help and get the task done twice as fast.”

“That’s not-- ugh,” Genji sighed and stepped out of the way. “I was getting this.”

On the desk was a glass vase full of crystal clear water, and sitting in the water was a bundle of colourful flowers. Leaning against the piece was a note-- no, it was not a note. It was poetry.

“Oh, Genji…” Zenyatta held a hand to his mouth.

“I was gonna surprise you, but it took a bit longer than I thought. I didn’t want to miss our meditation session.”

Suddenly all of the puzzle pieces came together and Zenyatta could see exactly what happened. In exchange for helping Brother Topaz clear the garden, Genji was allowed to pick some flowers. Then he had gone to Mondatta, the person closest to Zenyatta, for advice on poetry and what he may like. Finally he stopped by the kitchen for something to hold the flowers, ending up with an empty wine decanter.

All of that… just for Zenyatta.

“We can meditate any time,” Zenyatta said. He cupped a hand to Genji’s face, who immediately leaned into it like a domestic cat. “I would rather start later or miss it all together, if I was able to receive such a thoughtful gift from my soulmate.”

“It’s just flowers… and poetry,” Genji objected weakly.

“That is not the only gift you have given me today. You have shown me how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time, how you have made friends with my Brothers and Sisters here. Do you remember how you would only ask for help from me? Now you have an entire system of people who care about you and people who you trust enough to speak to.”

Zenyatta stroked Genji’s metal faceplate with a thumb. “That is the greatest gift you have given me today.”

Genji leaned forwards until his head bumped into Zenyatta’s shoulder, promptly burying his face into the pistons there. His chest hurt, it felt like it was brutally tightening in on itself. Genji had never had that happen from happiness before.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

= = = = =

One morning, when Genji woke up, all the snow outside was gone.

The frigid mountain air was calmed by the sun’s rays so that only a pleasant breeze wafted through the bedroom window. With his mask off Genji could smell the very beginning of hayfever season tickling his nose, and he was glad that at least with this body he suffered from fewer allergies.

As he sat up he could see that Zenyatta was not in bed with him, nor was he in the room at all. His orange pants had been picked up from the back of the chair and so had his belt. For a moment Genji worried that he had slept through something important, but once he saw that Zenyatta’s orbs were still in their basket he relaxed.

The universe had impeccable timing. Zenyatta quietly opened their bedroom door and pushed it the rest of the way with a leg since both of his arms were occupied with a large tray of food. It was obvious that he was trying his hardest to be stealthy, but once he caught a look at an awake Genji, he gave up.

“I hope I did not worry you,” Zenyatta said and put the tray down on the sheets, taking a seat on the other side. “Have you been awake long?”

“No, I only just woke up,” Genji said, his voice slurred with sleep.

The sound made Zenyatta’s jieba glow just a fraction brighter. “Then I have arrived just in time. I wanted to surprise you with breakfast.”

“It’s not really a surprise if you do it a few times a week.”

“Mm. I can try, can’t I? Here, we only just got our shipment of supplies this morning. They came with a surprise.”

Genji looked down and actually paid attention to the food-- immediately spotting it. Ninja reflexes and superhuman speed were very good at getting across just how happy he was to see his present. “Pears! I haven’t had pears in ages.”

“You had mentioned it a few weeks ago during our sessions,” Zenyatta explained. “So I decided to sneak it into the requisitions memo.”

“You didn’t have to do that!” Genji objected. “They’re just a fruit.”

“Yes, but they are your favourite fruit,” Zenyatta said. “And you deserve to be surrounded by your favourite things everyday, Genji.”

Mouth open and eyes wide Genji stared at his soulmate. Quickly-- he shook it off just as he felt the blood rush to his face and looked somewhere else. It was times like these that Genji wondered if he was in a dream. Someone like Zenyatta could not possibly exist in real life. They only existed in the sappiest of novels and the most romantic of movies.

“You’re my favorite thing,” Genji grumbled and took a big wet bite out of his fruit. The taste blurst like a dam over his tongue and he could feel his salivary glands immediately leap to work. He had forgotten how soft pears were. He had forgotten the feeling of taking a date out to the cherry blossom filled park and paring fruit on a blanket, feeding pieces to each other.

Genji wondered if him and Zenyatta might do that. If they could find some nice trees on their mountain and set down a picnic blanket, if they could talk and laugh in the sun while Zenyatta cuts up sweet fruit and feeds it to Genji.

“And you mine,” Zenyatta said, his voice warming than the sun outside their window.

 

Genji had managed to convince Zenyatta to feed him some of the food on his tray before he began to lick and suck on the omnic’s fingers, which was when Zenyatta made the dial-up noise in embarrassment and scolded his soulmate. If Genji got scolded by an adorable omnic with pink-tinted jieba everyday, life would not be so bad.

Eventually they went to the kitchen to wash Genji’s dishes together before going on a walk. By now Genji knew the stone paths by heart. He wondered if (even after such a short time) the rocks wore his footsteps. How long would he need to walk out every morning in order for the stone to wear down in the shape of his habitual path?

With the snow gone the courtyard and the temple’s exterior looked like an entirely different place. Genji never knew that there could be so much green so high in the mountains. He was looking forward to how much spring would change it in a week, in a month. 

Even their usual meditating spot looked unfamiliar to Genji when they finally arrived. Zenyatta seemed to enjoy the spring coming just as much as Genji, since he spread their mats out on the plush grass instead of the stone.

There were many times that Genji would get an idea or think of something just before a meditation session and it would distract him from the task at hand. Then Zenyatta would call him from his attempts and ask what was on his mind. 

_‘I can feel how disruptive your thoughts are,’_ Zenyatta said, when genji asked how he knew. _‘That, and you also furrow your eyebrows. It is very cute.’_

Since then they had agreed that Genji would speak his mind if he needed to, even in the middle of a session. So with that in mind he spoke up.

“Hey, Zen, before we start… can I ask you something?” he said hesitantly.

“Of course you can,” Zenyatta replied. “What is on your mind?”

Genji was not looking at his soulmate as he spoke. Instead his eyes lingered on the forest floor beneath them, the new bright green grass that sprouted from the earth. “I was thinking… Do you think there could be any way to change how I look?”

Zenyatta tilted his head. “In which way?”

“Ah-- I don’t mean-- I don’t want to get new parts so I look more... human. I just wanna change the colour of some of my parts, and maybe my LEDs.”

“What a wonderful idea, Genji,” Zenyatta said. “Do you have any particular ideas as to what colour you would like?”

“I dunno,” Genji shrugged. “But today I can’t help being reminded of how I used to dye my hair. It was this bright green-- super obnoxious. I did it as a joke at first but then I grew to love it.”

Zenyatta reached across the small space between their folded legs and gently took Genji’s hands. With just a touch-- the slightest brush of warm metal-- safely holding one flesh and one artificial hand, Genji found his center. Even after all this time (it had not even been a year, but Genji felt as if he had known Zenyatta forever) there never ceased to be a physical spark when they touched. A zap of static electricity that shook him to his core, his _soul._

Was that why people called it _soulmates?_ Were they very literally connected by their souls? It was a question Genji did not find himself curious nor patient enough to ask often. As long as the feeling never faded, he was happy.

One of Zenyatta’s thumbs rubbed circles into Genji’s flesh hand. “I think you would look wonderful in green.”

Genji smiled under his faceplate (and how was it that Zenyatta had learned to see how Genji’s eyes smiled under his mask after such a short amount of time?) and he felt himself settle.

“Green it is, then.”

**Home  
Hold on  
If love is the answer you're home**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay all done!! i hope the ending/epilogue has enough closure lol. there was so much damn drama in this i honestly cant tell.
> 
> hopefully i can move onto other things soon! i have a story coming up im super excited for.
> 
> once again my tumblr is [here](http://chohouse.tumblr.com/) and my twitter is [here!!](https://twitter.com/chohouse)

**Author's Note:**

> ho boy genji sure is a goddamn angst fest rn. finally i get to mend my own goddamn heart that breaks everytime i think about bwatch genji and how he hasnt met zenyatta yet. but this time w/ bonus soulmate plot oooooo.
> 
> im a slut for soulmate fics pls leave me alone

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [hunger like a storm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311385) by [choriarty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/choriarty/pseuds/choriarty)




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